


Under Arrest

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breast Fucking, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Devcon finally captures his old girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Arrest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flying_Condors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flying_Condors/gifts).



> My friend Condors was rightfully upset about the lack of Devcon/Flamewar when they are pretty much 99% canon (in Wings verse at least). And Flamewar is my robot daughter so I will take any chance to use her in anything.

“It really took you _all_ this time to track me down, Devcon?” Even in her current position, Flamewar couldn't stop herself snickering, fangs clicking together and pink optics flashing bright under her squeezed lids. She hadn't changed at all; her smirk and fluttering winglets still had that codpiece-stiffening effect on Devcon.

“Most of the time was spent thinking of all the things to do when I caught you,” he grunted, knowing only a very small percentage of those thoughts involved torture (after all, he'd left the Wreckers for their newfound sadistic streaks. Pit, he only joined because femmes liked the insignias on their mechs). 

“Well, I'm here now,” Flamewar said, folding her legs underneath her and putting her cuffed hands under her chin, surprisingly and suspiciously accepting of her capture. “Time to avenge, or arrest, or whatever it is you do, now that you're so _boring_ …” 

Even now, T Cog and weapons disabled and every advantage taken from her, she was still taunting him. She was just asking for a hard frag. “Usually I _would_ arrest you,” Devcon said, framing his hips with his hands as the fins on his back rose up. “But… I wouldn't want to waste this vulnerable state you're in…” 

Something in his voice, or maybe the familiar smirk on his face, told Flamewar she wasn't being carted to a cell just yet, not for another long while. Even then, she just wiggled her eyeridges up at him, a dare written all over her face. “Ah, ah, but you're a goody-two-peds Knight now. So you need to behave yourself.”

“Well, that's where you’re wrong,” Devcon said heavily, tightening the hands on his hips as he so slowly approached her. “Technically… I'm not on a Knight mission. And technically… I can do anything I want to you.” He was very deliberate in emphasising ‘anything’, which only made Flamewar grin. 

“Wrecker training kicking back in?” she asked.

“It's that training that got you on my spike in the first place. But I'm changing things around.” He reached where she sat fluttering optics and winglets, crouching to grab hold of her chin. “ _I’m_ in charge now.”

“Oh?” Flamewar, usually the dominant one back when they weren't trying to kill each other, actually looked amused at him trying to turn the tables. 

“Yeah…” Even though he was still holding her chin, she didn’t seem to expect him pulling her mouth so eagerly against his, forcing his glossa in while she was stunned with shock. His lips held hers open as he lapped across her fangs, twirled around her tongue, shoving only small measures of how much he'd been waiting for this moment down her throat. Even when his glossa pulled back he still had her mouth pried open, feeling her hot vents at the back of his throat and staring into her wide optics.

“You think you can just lead me on across light years and not get punished for it?” he asked, pressing his forehelm against hers as she tried to recover her smirk. 

“Maybe that was the idea… getting you angry,” she suggested in wheezy whispers.

“Well, it worked.” Copying her smirk much more successfully, Devcon shoved Flamewar on her back, shackled hands pinned over her head as he climbed on top of her. 

“If there's one thing I've missed about you, Flamewar- well, _two_ things, it's these…” He spread his hands over her chestplates, huge fiery mounds still soft despite the armour covering them. And she made no complaint as he fondled them, proudly grinning past her fangs as she arched into his touch, watching him pull his bowed codpiece aside. 

“Mm, Dev, baby, you're so bad…” Flamewar giggled, actually enjoying how easily his spike slid between her breasts as he squeezed them around the hard cord. As much as he loved her voice (almost as much as her chest), the feral lilt it gained when she was turned on, she wasn't really letting him dominate her if she was liking it so much. 

“Shut up,” he growled, thrusting forwards and fragging her plates with the painted flames caressing his spike. His bulb, trickling clear pre-fluid down her cleavage, came so close to slipping in her mouth that he was certain Flamewar was leaning forwards on purpose. She was definitely helping at least, pushing herself up and down to make his thrusts even faster, the smooth friction sending him back years to better days where he didn't need to hunt down his girlfriend for a frag.

“Come on, Devy, you don't usually take this long,” she teased, nibbling her bottom lip and practically asking for Devcon to claim her mouth again. 

“I said, _shut up_.” Freeing his spike from her breasts and grabbing hold of her cuffs, he pulled Flamewar forwards so she was kneeling in front of him, already close to his cord before he pulled her lips onto it with a firm hold of her crest. She gasped, swallowing his spike in one move as her wide optics looked up at him. 

“Like I said, _I’m_ in charge now,” he reminded her, rubbing her crest as he forced her helm back and forth with it. Saliva dripped down her chin, washing around his spike as he spread her throat. If her hands were free, she might have used her digits as well, but he wasn't about to make it easy for her. Not that it was a challenge for her as she happily lapped at his cord, scraping her fangs along the ridges, and even pushing her breasts together to swell around the base of his spike. So much co-operation from the femme who'd spent so long leading him on a turbofox hunt, who so easily accepted being made submissive. 

“When did you become such a glitch, Flamewar?” he grunted, almost drowned out as he smothered his own moans.

“Mmhrf...ummf…” Her attempt at speaking sent lovely muffled thrums along his spike, though he only pulled out far enough so his bulb was still on her tongue.

“I was always one,” she said, hoarse but grinning despite it. “You just never noticed.”

That confirmed it; she _was_ just making him angry, pushing him further than anyone else just to see if he lived up to his promise, the one he made to find her after the Decepticons took her from him, and show her he was worth all the betrayals in the galaxy. That was all the reason he needed to shove his spike back down her throat, grab her breasts again and frag all the taunts out of her. Her groans still managed to sound smug around the cord filling her mouth, winglets twitching all the grins she couldn't fit around him. Because she was Flamewar and because it'd been so long, he could only enjoy her mouth for another few klicks before he had to pull back out, saliva strings still draped from her lips to his spike.

“As pretty as it looks right now, I don't want to overload on your face… not just yet. I know you'd rather have it deep in your valve…” Devcon slid his digits from her damp chin down her cleavage, to where her valve cover jnstantly parted for him. 

“You're still as easy to open up as you ever were…” He only had to graze his fingertips along her folds to feel how wet he'd made her, and to jolt a whine out of her sore lips. 

“Your friends never complained…” She melted into the floor as he went deeper, hitting nodes only he knew about and stroking his thumb around the outer ones. “Just…. before I killed them….”

Then his fingers pulled out instantly, dripping orange lube. “Right, that's it. Roll over.”

She whined louder at his growl, missing his fingers already, but with him already grabbing hold of her aft it was easier to just obey. Her chestplates swelled underneath her as he pulled her rear up, now using it to massage his spike even more. Her valve was so tempting, but he only rubbed against its furthest folds before sliding his spike further up.

Flamewar wasn't nearly so patient. “Well…? What are you… waiting for?”

He paused, still nestled in her aft, reaching one of the tight hands on her hips to her crest, pulling her helm close so he could snarl low. “I’m waiting for you to beg for it,” Devcon told her.

She whimpered, with arousal more than anything else from how her valve pulsed against the base of his cord. “Please, Dev, baby… I need you in me.”

Just the sound of her desperateness could have made him overload right then. He had to gnaw on his lip, focusing on flicking his wings to control himself. “More…”

“I missed your spike so much… I need it, I want it to pound me til your fluid’s dripping out…” She was trying to convince him even more with thrusts against his hips, rubbing her valve along his shaft to coat it in lube and send his vocaliser off with groans. 

“That's more like it…” When he finally went inside, warm and tight despite her other affairs, it was a relief for both of them. Devcon finally had her caught, broken, so horny for him that she didn't even try escaping, and Flamewar finally got him showing how much she really meant to him. Slamming against her aft, driving her into the floor as she drooled... all the light years and near-misses, just for a frag. Not even all-Decepticon couples were so dedicated to kinkiness.   
Then again, an Autobot and Decepticon together was a kink in itself. Especially with the Decepticon being dominated. With that in mind, he didnt feel bad about only lasting as long as her, their overloads so close together that their moans layered loud enough to vibrate through the walls, leaving their frames shaking as they collapsed into each other. Heaving, glossa limp, Devcon only tugged on her crest so he could kiss her again. 

“You're under arrest, baby,” he mumbled against her lips, with the laziest smile around her fangs.

**Author's Note:**

> More like Under Abreast AHAAAAAAAAAAA


End file.
